And minus one epic meltdown on behalf of Bee…
(In her defense, she’d just had her face stepped on in the corn box. Here she is pre-face sqashing:
(Notice the fat lower lip, complete with bloody wounds. Also the toe prints on her right cheek.) Poor kid.)
…much fun was had.
Just as the place was getting ready to close, we decided to squeeze in one more activity and cashed in our tickets for potatoes to see how far we could launch them in The Spud Slinger (picture circa 2010). Lucy and I went first and slung a spud a little over 50 feet! Dave and Julia went next. Now, Dave is extraordinarily competitive and wanted to be sure he beat our 50 foot slingshot by a lot, so he pulled the slinger back, back, way back until he was almost sitting on the ground. “I’m really gonna launch this thing,” he said with a wink and let go. The leather pocket propelled the potato forward as the rubber tubing stretched, wobbled for a few seconds, and snapped back, nailing Dave right between the legs with force so great it CUT HIS BLUE JEANS!
And gave him a potato-sized souvenir (if you know what I mean).
We have no idea how far the potato went.